


mon amour, je nous ai perdus

by Laeana



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Five Stages of Grief, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Grand Prix, Hope, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Love Confessions, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sad, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:28:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: Because, often, life is shorter than what we think, Pierre realizes that sometimes it's better to take the opportunities given.
Relationships: Pierre Gasly & Anthoine Hubert, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	mon amour, je nous ai perdus

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Wish You're Happy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583551) by [Laeana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana). 



> "my love, i lost us"
> 
> Featuring Bruxelles by Boulevard des airs, it's one of my fav songs from them if not my favorite one.

> _I sat with my anger long enough, until she told me her real name was grief._  
>  _— Isaac Rowe_

* * *

**(...** **)**

" **Yeah you got racing the day after tomorrow, right?** "

"And you tomorrow."

" **Yeah, yeah, let's wish each other good luck !** "

"True."

" **Wouldn’t you mind if ... soon, we arrange a meeting, the three of us? With Charles I mean.** "

"I don't know. That would be good."

" **Could be a step towards your reconciliation ? I just want to, you know, see you again. As time has passed, we have fewer and fewer opportunities. I don't want to lose you.** "

"Neither do we Tonio. We'll see that after this GP if it's okay with you ?"

" **Of course ! Can you tell Charles ? I don't know if I will have time. But I can't wait to see you again ! I have plenty to tell you.** "

"A lot of things ? I’m getting scared there."

" **Don’t** **be so mean ! My stories are not that terrible.** "

"If you say so ..."

" **I** **don’t understand why I kept you as a friend. Charles is much kinder than you are.** "

"That doesn't mean he likes your stories any more."

" **So mean to me. I should have wiped you out of my life.** "

"You love us too much for that."

" **Unfortunately that's true. What would I have done without these two idiots by my side ...** "

"Hey!"

" **... full of dreams and hopes ? For now, I doubt you will achieve them ...** "

"What-?"

" **... but I hope so from the bottom of my heart.** "

"It turned out better than I expected."

" **Don't criticize my beautiful speech.** "

"I’m not criticizing, I’m not criticizing. You just sound awfully sentimental at the time."

" **Maybe true, maybe.** "

"…"

" **I'm going to have to leave you ?** "

"Oh yeah, sure."

" **Good luck going forward, tell Charles that I miss you both and then see you soon I hope !** "

"See you soon, Tonio."

**End of the call - 32 min**

* * *

August 31, 2019: death of Anthoine Hubert. 

* * *

Pierre struggled. It's hard not to sink into denial. To hit. To assimilate everything, understand. It’s always so painful, brutal, the loss. Yesterday he was talking to him on the phone, today he will never do it again.

Tears roll down his cheeks. So fragile.

The world doesn't stop spinning, no. No matter how important a person is to you, to others, their disappearance never changes anything. But, at this precise moment, how he would like the world to stop just a few moments to give him time to breathe.

He finished seventeenth in qualifying, the news fell on him without warning. He breathes. He does not want to face the crowd, his team or even the other drivers. He doesn't want to talk to Charles, doesn't even know if Charles knows about it.

Their plans ... also fall apart. What suffering. They had to meet again, they should have been able to do it. If he had known his friend would die today, he would have taken a plane and flown to him, not even caring about the Grand Prix.

He would have expected it. They would have spoken at length, Anthoine still telling one of his many stories, not so funny, not so interesting, but which he will certainly miss. He would have hugged him. Strong. He wanted to say goodbye to him.

Life summed up in a few words. Often, we don't have time to say goodbye to people we love that they are already gone.

He dries his tears, gets up. The last words of the deceased echoing in his ears, last words he addressed to him. He knows he mustn't let himself get down, he knows he has to get up, no matter how badly it hurts.

Coming back to his stand, he was stopped by one of the engineers who, despite his rushed air, seemed to want to send him a message.

“Leclerc was looking for you. He said he would meet you at the hotel.”

He nods before realizing that Charles has searched where he is staying. He didn't think so. But they must surely talk. Speak a bit. Regardless of their differences, they share the same mourning.

He maintains a conversation, receives condolences. Honestly, he is happy to have to return to the hotel. In the lobby, he immediately spots his longtime friend who, with his hoodie and sunglasses, isn't exactly discreet. He sighs, annoyed and amused.

“Follow me.”

He grabs his arm to lead him to the elevator and then to his room. They don't speak until they arrive. Until the door slammed and they found each other eye to eye.

“Why did you want to see me ?”

“Really ? You have no idea ? Maybe we should stop with this ridiculous rivalry, damn it.”

“For once it's you talking about it.”

The Monegasque pulls back, almost slapped by this sentence which is however the exact truth. A mirthless laugh crosses his lips.

“It's always the same with you. Something has to happen for you to decide to act. If Anthoine hadn't died, what would you have waited for ? Whether it's me hurting me ? Would you have waited to cry on my grave ?”

“Stop it. You are awful. It's disgusting of you.”

“Yeah yeah.”

He turns away from his comrade, no longer bearing the conversation. Let it happen now ... they just can't even get along in such a sad time.

Charles doesn’t say anything, not even raising the subject, however, he makes a somewhat surprising gesture as he comes to hug him from behind and kiss his neck. Before leaving.

It’s only when the door closes, leaving him alone, that he goes over what just happened. His feelings, buried until then, resurface in a rush. He drops down on his bed with a long sigh.

What would Anthoine do if he was still there ? What would he say to him ? The deceased was always the one advising him on his relationship with the Ferrari driver.

" **You're worrying too much about it, Pierre. Too much, too much.** "

Pierre can almost imagine him, a smile on his lips, who sits on the edge of his bed, his eyes reflecting an annoyed look, since he has always had enough of his two best friends turning around.

" **It was a way to bury the hatchet. You'd have to forgive him one day or another. It was childish of him wanting to end your relationship, but you don't do better by refusing to him.** "

“Maybe ... but I don't know. It's hard. He comes back to me only because you left. How can I not blame him for this ?” 

" **I'm not asking you not to blame him. But I wanted to see you back together. You know, before I go.** "

His eyes open again. He feels empty, sad. But a little better. He has lots of ideas.

* * *

September 1, 2019: one hour before the start of the race. 

* * *

Pierre has landed against a wall in the Ferrari garage. He doesn't belong here, but he had the decency to come more discreetly than his friend yesterday to his hotel. Sebastian recognized him in passing and gave him a sincere smile.

He just has to wait a little longer for Charles to show up, in uniform, and give him a hostile look when he sees him.

“What are you doing here ? I thought you didn't want to talk to me.”

“I don’t know.”

The Monegasque changes expression, sympathy showing on his face, hope too.

“I just wanted to tell you ... Win it for him. Please.”

The younger one smiles and comes to hug him for a brief hug though he clearly wants to do something else, reflected in his eyes.

“I will do it. I promise you.”

A burst of trust between them.

He returns to his team quite quickly. Daniil greets him with a wave of his hand to which he responds. Time flies too quickly, he feels filled with a new, different energy.

" **What would I have done without these two idiots by my side full of dreams and hopes? For now, I doubt you will achieve them but I hope you will from the bottom of my heart.** "

He is surprised when his path crosses that of Max who stops him.

“Hey, I didn't have time to tell you. But I'm sorry for what happened to Anthoine. You're okay ?”

“Yes, yes. It's just ... it was brutal. Too much. I was talking to him two days ago, we wanted to see each other with Charles. And that will never happen again …”

The Dutchman nods and feels his throat tighten. Always difficult to talk about. He doesn't know if he will ever get comfortable on this subject.

“Courage.”

The pilot Redbull ends up hurrying away, surely having to stop by to see someone else.

Pierre finished ninth. Charles first. His heart is numb.

At the hotel, he has a surprise. Quite a surprise. His best friend is once again in the lobby, waiting for him.

“Charles ? But what the-”

“Can we go up to your room ?”

He nods. This time, it’s the youngest who leads him by the hand, having perfectly memorized the path. They arrive quickly.

“Shouldn't you be celebrating? It's your-”

“I know. I've already done it. And I will stay there again. But I had to talk to you. Did you have a discussion with Tonio before his death ?”

“Yes, I don’t see how …”

Max. It's definitely Max.

“He wanted to see us both again ? He told you ?”

His memories come back with bitterness, his pain resurfaces. Charles takes hold of his hand and squeezes it gently.

“Tell me. Tell me his last words, please.”

He meets his friend's tortured irises. Green against blue. He yields.

“I had to call you normally. The three of us were supposed to meet again. This is what he wanted. He wished us good luck, said he missed us. He told us ... he couldn’t wait to see us soon.”

A tired sob escapes from his lips. His friend closes his eyes painfully for a few seconds, before opening them again, determined.

When his mate's lips crash against his, it's not much of a surprise. He accepts the kiss with some relief. He lets his hands roam his body with renewed pleasure and tenderness.

The exchange continues. He no longer cares about the situation and the alleged anger he must be feeling. No. There are only them at the moment. It's been so long and they're making love. They don't sleep together like they did in so many other encounters.

It’s only once the act is over that he allows himself to have regrets. Their last kiss is exchanged but no words. Their bodies are marked but will it be of much use ?

Charles gets up quickly enough, releasing his embrace to go get his things and get dressed. He stands up on his elbows.

“What are you doing ?”

“I'm going back to the celebrations. You should come, almost everyone is there. They wanted to ... raise a toast to Tonio.”

“I'll join you.”

He's waiting to be totally off the emotional lift that his day has been. Which is quite difficult. He isn't sure if he wants to mingle with the crowd and endure other compassionate looks. He's already tired of it. Her lover is already out.

" **Since when do you deprive yourself of the party for me?** "

“Maybe since you're not here anymore”

" **Enjoy, please. You're only young once in a lifetime ! Then you'll be old and you won't be able to endure those kinds of moments.** "

“And that’s something you will never become.”

Even the Anthoine his mind draws to him fell silent for a moment, the smile on his lips wavering. He knows it's wrong to hold back the memory of a person, not to want to let them go. He doesn't even do it on purpose.

" **It's true. There are a lot of things that I would not live. But I have lived too. I have lived things near you. You have been my friends, my confidants. I loved you from the bottom of my heart. That's why, even though I'm no longer there, even though I wouldn't come back, I want you to be happy.** "

“Shut up ! Shut up ! You're not real ... my mind is playing tricks on me.”

His Anthoine gets up from the bed, staring outside for a moment, a sad smile on his face.

" **Maybe. But go to this party. Or you'll regret it, you know that.** "

He sighs and mutters a few vulgarities before finally getting up to get dressed and go out. His best friend was kind enough to give him the exact address of the place. He goes there and slips with unexpected happiness into the atmosphere.

He greets the teammates he meets. Sits at the bar. Further on, he can see Charles surrounded and talking to Sebastian and Lewis.

“Didn't expect to see you there ?” says a voice and when he raises his head, he finds Max by his side.

“Is that so surprising ?”

“I don’t know, I would have understood if you wanted to stay a little alone.”

Pierre shrugs his shoulders. Max takes a seat next to him and grabs a glass of beer. It only takes a few moments for Daniel to join them, slipping an arm around the Dutchman's waist.

“Are you planning to bury the hatchet with your lover ?”

Embarrassed, he takes a quick glance at his look, hoping that no marks are visible.

“We'll see. It depends on what he wants ... I don't know. Besides, information travels fast, right Max ?”

Thus said swallows before clearing his throat.

“I had to do something. You have to be reconciled one day.”

The oldest of the three, who has said nothing until then, resumes in turn :

“How do you feel about him ? It's that simple.”

“My feelings never changed. I ... still love him so much of course. Even though it was painful. I thought I had the opportunity to see him. We would have seen each other and he would have tried to get us back together.”

His two rivals have the decency not to ask who the "he" is or at least understand who he is talking about.

“We ended up in bed earlier. But he didn't say anything. I don't want to think about it because I don't want to relive the same thing as last time.”

The hours without sleep, tears killed in the pillow, his voice broken by sobs, the endless waiting for a message that never came, hoping that died gradually.

“It's because you tried to take the first step. What if he did ?”

“Charles to take the first step ? I’m not sure.”

“We'll see !”

For Max to be so confident, it smacks of bullshit, for sure. But he doesn't answer and they don't bring up the subject for the rest of the evening.

* * *

September 7, 2019: Qualifying Italy GP. 

* * *

Pierre has finished his qualifications. Obviously. Fifteenth. He has time to answer a few interviews before returning to see Charles' return. Pole position. A small smile adorns his lips despite everything. He could never be more proud of this boy.

He held discussions with the engineers and his technical director before being officially authorized to return to the hotel. He changes and when he leaves, he has a surprise.

“I will end up believing that it is a habit with you.”

“What ? Waiting for you ?”

“No, stalking me.”

His best friend laughs softly, not really worried by the choice of words, before coming to put a hand on his arm. It’s a characteristic in the attitude of the Ferrari driver in relation to him, very tactile.

“Was it Max who told you to come talk to me ?”

The fact that the youngest one freezes, without answering, is enough for him. He sighs softly.

“I would like him to take more care of his business.”

“He's not the only one who wants to get us back together, you know.”

True. Anthoine wanted it too, finding that they were never as happy as when they were together. The Monegasque shakes his head, worried about finding his gaze, to look for something to hold onto. He almost gets lost in the bright green, full of emotions.

“Look ... I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make you forgive me. Because the guys push me to talk to you but the desire does not fail. It's just that I always run out of words with you. I hurt you. I no longer know how to find the way to your heart, mon amour.”

This nickname that his interlocutor has always used to give him and that he has not told him for a long time. His feelings are turned upside down. Charles doesn't need to find the way, he's never left it.

“Come back to me. Please.”

His rival leaves before he has time to say anything. The situation is so unexpected. So complicated for him. He never expected the boy he is so madly in love with to come see him to apologize.

He has always been the one trying to reconcile them, to no avail.

The return to his room is not calming either. His nerves are strained. Complicated to feel serene. He should though. He cannot compete in such a state of mind. He must put his personal worries aside.

" **Yeah, yeah, if you got your personal issues sorted out once and for all that would be a lot better.** "

He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. To his right, Anthoine has dropped to his side and looks at him. He feels tired, the urge to argue takes hold of him. He wants to ask why life is so unfair, why he left them sooner. But it's no use.

“He didn't even give me time for an answer. Although I wouldn't have known what to say to him.”

" **He thinks he's unforgivable. Which is understandable considering he's pushed you away more than once. That's why he didn't wait for your answer. He's afraid it's too late.** "

“Too late ? As if it could be. We made love just a few days before, how could he have forgotten it ?”

" **He may think you regret it. You haven't mentioned it after all.** "

They come back to the big problem in an entire relationship. Lack of communication. He and Charles never talk enough about their feelings, their worries, when they should.

" **He took a step towards you, could you take a step towards him ?** "

His eyes close. The "ghost" places a gentle hand on his cheek. He could almost believe he doesn’t imagine the contact. He doesn't know, he doesn't know anymore. It’s surely only the fruit of his imagination, an image to materialize his thoughts. But the idea remains, heady. What if ...

* * *

September 8, 2019: Italian GP. 

* * *

It’s his turn to wait for his lover. Leaned near the Ferrari garage, once again, out of sight. Charles arrives quite quickly and he pulls him with him, a little further, to speak to him without being interrupted.

“Pierre ? Why are you here ?”

The confusion spread over his mate's face makes him smile softly. With a spontaneous gesture, he comes to place his lips on those of the boy who faces him and then pulls back, watching the Monegasque's cheeks turn red.

“Win this GP and maybe ... we could go to dinner somewhere, you and me.”

Satisfied with his effect, he shifts before starting to leave, without waiting for any response.

“Pierre ! Is that a date ? It's a date, isn't it ?”

He doesn’t answer. If the younger could see him right now, his smile would be enough for him to know.

The preparations pass in the blink of an eye. He has the impression that he is putting on his suit and that a minute later he is in his car, ready to go.

He finished eleventh. Somehow.

In a way, Charles finished first.

They indulge in the mood. All the pilots celebrate. He dares to do it too, although he keeps his eyes on the time, waiting for his best friend to come and claim his prize.

And he does. Around seven o'clock, while he is discussing with Romain, about various subjects, his lover arrives and puts an arm around his waist.

“Love ? I'm getting hungry …”

“Okay, okay.”

He apologizes to his French compatriot and follows the other driver who quickly leads him to his car, seeming to have everything planned for this evening.

“I offered you a date, but you provided for it ?”

“We had to reserve. I knew you would do it at the last minute.”

The drive is almost silent. They chat a little, not too much. Waiting for their outcome to be played out during the meal. Calm weighs on him. He thinks about Anthoine, his smile, his last wish. Every time that comes to his mind he feels bad, depressed.

That's why he tries to get it out of his mind. He must not be feeling that way at such an important time. For him, for Charles, for the relationship they have and their possible future.

Nothing is sorted out, still, until the end of the meal. That’s what it takes for him to find the courage and the words that he lacked earlier.

“Charles, mon cœur, please listen to me.”

The youngest suddenly seems worried, unsure of himself.

“You didn't give me time to answer. But you knew how to recognize your faults. No matter how badly we hurt each other, it's over. What matters to me right now is the present. The future.”

He takes a deep breath.

“And my future I want to spend it with you. I still love you so much. I never stopped loving you.”

He bows his head. He raises his just before to see that the Monegasque has come around the table and has thrown himself in his arms.

“I'm so relieved. So much. I was such an idiot. I love you I love you I love you.”

Pierre smiles, hugging the chosen one of his heart tighter against him. They kiss once more, understanding each other in a certain way. Understanding what the last days have been like. Wounded but still alive, standing. Continuing to move forward because they cannot do anything else-

And it’s with some pain that he realizes that his mourning is over. Since he accepted the unacceptable. Reality. They would never see each other again.

Slowly, his deceased friend offers him a last sad smile, relieved, disappearing, piece by piece, without ceasing to look at him tenderly. Then, when he has completely evaporated, only a few words still echo in the void, ephemeral.

" **I hope you are happy.** "

Charles in his arms gives him a puzzled look, not understanding his sudden shock, his wet eyes. He just kisses him to silence his worry.

“Nothing. Nothing. I'm just glad I found you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe it. So much feels. This was my first ever try in the f1 fandom and I felt it clumsy in a way. But it's also ... i can't help being a bit proud of it, you know ? My first story ... had a small smile on my lips all along, even though it was a painful thing to translate.   
> Remembering too many things ...
> 
> Thanks for reading this first attempt, my first attempt.
> 
> tumblr : laeana


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